


Every Other Freckle

by natshana



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - 1950s, Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/F, Greaser Lexa, POV Clarke, POV Third Person, Protective Lexa, Schoolgirl Clarke, lexa is an absolute puppy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2017-01-30
Packaged: 2018-09-20 21:21:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9516761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/natshana/pseuds/natshana
Summary: She hated the way her curls perfectly framed her face, how they glowed in the sunlight outside during lunch, and bounced with each step the girl took. She hated the way that her chest fluttered, every, single, time, that their eyes met, a calm, blue ocean fighting against a wild, green forest. She hated her and yet absolutely revered the girl who sat two rows behind her, who threw balls of crumpled up paper at her back throughout the class, who started arguments with her over the current subject, just to get a rise from the ever studious blonde. She didn't know if she wanted to lunge forward and capture the girl's lips between her own or wrap her fingers around the girl's slim throat and shove her to the ground.or the 1950's high school AU where Lexa is a bad ass greaser who falls for the studious schoolgirl Clarke, or maybe it's the other way around. Basically the story that you never knew you wanted, and trust me, you'll want this.





	

Lexa Woods was probably the most infuriating person that Clarke had the privilege to meet. She was rude, loud, obnoxious, cruel, a literal heathen to society. She disrupted the class more times than not and she was so tired of the smug smirk that sat on the girl's lips.

Her plump, light pink lips that would smile at her from across the hall, accompanied by blazing green eyes that would wink as she entered their English 101 class. She had killer cheekbones and a jawline that could cut steel because this girl was absolutely beautiful, gorgeous. Lexa Woods was hot and Clarke hated every ounce of her being, from the brown combat boots which echoed down the hall to the black leather jacket that hugged her frame oh so nicely.

She hated how nice the girl’s voice sounded, how it filled a room and made her core stir with an unwanted pleasure, it sent chills down her back and goosebumps to raise along her skin. She hated the way her curls perfectly framed her face, how they glowed in the sunlight outside during lunch and bounced with each step the girl took. She hated the way that her chest fluttered, _every_ , _single_ , _time_ , that their eyes met, a calm, blue ocean fighting against a wild, green forest. She hated her and yet absolutely revered the girl who sat two rows behind her, who threw balls of crumpled up paper at her back throughout the class, who started arguments with her over the current subject, just to get a rise from the ever studious blonde.

She didn't know if she wanted to lunge forward and capture the girl's lips between her own or wrap her fingers around the girl's slim throat and shove her to the ground. Most days, it was the latter, and today, today was most definitely one of those days.

“Ms. Griffin!” She heard the cry behind her but stayed standing where she was, fists curled against her plaid, knee high skirt. Her eyes were blazing as she glared at the smug faced girl across the room. Who sat, leaned back in her chair, arms folded and feet propped up on the desk. Adorned in a black leather jacket over a pristine white shirt, its neckline stretched loose to show the edges of her collar bones. Her hair fell over her left shoulder, cascading so magnificently that Clarke couldn’t help but grit her teeth harder. She watched the brunette's mouth mock, _Ms. Griffin_ , and fall back into its known smirk.

She huffed, turning from the back of the room to face the front. Where their professor, Kane, stood, with his back against the chalkboard covered in writing. Writing which had been perfectly copied into her notebook until the fifth eraser hit the back of her head in the twenty minute time period they had been attending the class. His eyes were fixed on her, sending her a warning without words as she retook her seat. He was angry at _her_ when she was the one just trying to stand up against the nuisance in the back of the class.

“I expect to see you after class, Ms. Griffin,” she heard from the front as she scorned the notebook, on the desk before her, with her eyes. Snickering from the back of the class caught her ears and she grimaced, of course, the perpetrator wouldn’t be-

“You as well, Ms. Woods,” the class going stock still, “don’t think I didn’t see who was the cause of this ordeal.”

Clarke smiled as the class broke out to whisper amongst each other, it was a rare day when Lexa got called out. Especially by a teacher, she had grown a reputation for “see don’t tell.” As much as she wanted to turn her head and smirk triumphantly at the girl, she decided to remain facing forward. The brunette didn’t deserve her effort. Throughout the rest of the period, she didn't feel a single eraser, paper, or pencil be thrown her way. Maybe, standing up for herself every once in a while, wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

“Kane, I really don’t see how-,” the man held up his hand, quieting the girl with an excuse sitting on the tip of her tongue. The class had filed out shortly before, leaving both her and the brunette, standing before the professor at his dark, oak wood desk. Sitting in the corner of the class, against the intersection of two walls, so that it would have no blind spots of the commotion that took place in the room. There was a good four feet between the blonde and the girl who looked as if she had a million other places to be than _here_.

“This is not about the incident that took place in class today,” he admitted, lowering his hand to fold with his other on top of the desk.

“Then what the hell-,” the brunette began, clearly irritated with the situation.

“This is about the fact that _you_ are failing this class, Ms. Woods. Along with several others, so if you want to actually graduate this year, unlike the last, then I suggest you shut your mouth and listen.”

This seemed to barely appease the brunette for the time being, but still, she sealed her lips, only grumbling slightly. Eyes trained on her boots which she idly scuffed against the hideous tiled floor. Clarke stood stiffly beside her, confused as all hell, if this wasn't about earlier then she had absolutely no reason to having as stayed. She wrung her hands together in front of her and waited to find out what role she played in this. The light blouse she’d chosen for today suddenly seemed heavy and too tight. The collar stuck against her skin as if she had just run a marathon. Which she obviously had not, or ever would for the matter, the thought made her cringe as she tuned back into the conversation that surrounded her.

“As you know, the only way to graduate this year would be if you made up the three credits you failed to earn last year. In your language arts class, geometry class, and physical education. You just so happen, to be lucky enough that we have another student who's taken all of those, and who’s also in need of volunteer work.”

 _Oh no_.

Her wringing hands froze, suddenly feeling clammy and the blouse was now not the only thing that felt suffocating. She had applied for the community service program two months ago, at the beginning of the school year. Hoping to get some hours in so that she was more applicable towards colleges out of state. But this, she glanced over at the brunette whose jaw was clenching, and if looks could kill then the man before them would be six feet under. She did _not_ , sign up for this.

“Ms. Griffin here, has offered her services,” _no she hadn’t_ , “to be your tutor for the rest of the quarter. Or until your grades show improvement and have risen to a standard that would allow you to pass.”

She looked from the professor and back towards the girl next to her, catching her gaze and feeling her chest clench at the cold intensity that sat behind it. This was _not_ good, if she didn’t absolutely dread her already, then this was just icing on the cake.

“Sir, if I could just-.”

“No, Ms. Woods, you may not. This has already been set in stone and fully planned out by several members of the school board including myself. Clarke is to be your tutor for the next quarter and that is final. You must meet, at the least, every Wednesday and Saturday night. You may rearrange your schedules from there, and if your grades are not improved by then, then it will continue into the next quarter, and even the next semester if need be. Is this clear for the both of you?” His eyes were hard, face tense. He was taking this as a very serious matter and the both of them could tell.

They nodded and he sighed, “good, and if I may. I suggest that the both of you get quite familiar with each other and stop this childish behavior. You are both adults now, as you have seemed to forgotten, and should start acting like it.” He took a deep breath, “that is all.”

With a dip of his chin, the girls shuffled from the classroom. Nerves between them were at an all time high, and she could feel the tension building in the atmosphere around them. Clarke adjusted the strap of her bag which she had thrown over her shoulder on her way out and watched the tense brunette pace before her.

“So-,” she tried to start but the girl before her interrupted with a rather loud sigh.

“I’m not doing this,” the girl chuckled, feigning to be nonchalant about the situation, but Clarke could see the stress and unease in the girl’s posture and with the waiver of her voice.

“We don’t have a choice in this, Lexa,” Clarke folded her arms, not believing she was seriously going to have to deal with this.

“Actually, Griffin,” the brunette stopped in her movements, hands stuffed in the pockets of her jacket, and pierced her green gaze onto Clarke’s. “We do. We have a choice in everything and anything that concerns us. And _I_ , am _choosing_ , not to do whatever this is.” She curled her lips, and turned away, walking away from Clarke, who had almost been pressed against the wall with the girl's words.

“Lexa,” Clarke called after the retreating figure, exasperated, “just because we have the option to run in a situation does not mean you should take it. I didn’t want this to happen either but I’m not going to walk away, I’m willing to help, to stick through. But this is a two sided deal, and _you_ , on the other hand, may have the desire to run but you do _not_ have the choice to not graduate, _again_. So, if you just cooperated, and got off your high fucking horse, then both of us could get this over with faster. And, maybe, you could continue your sorry excuse for a life after high school. All I’m asking is that you _try_ , for the next couple weeks, _try_ , and we’ll see how this goes.”

The girl had stopped a couple feet down the hall to listen to her spiel. She watched as the shoulders of the once stoic girl fell, and turn towards her. The glare still in place across her features, but Clarke could see the cracks and where she was trying too hard in some places.

“Gustus’s, Wednesday at six, be there,” Lexa’s gaze traveled to the wall behind the blonde’s head and her face softened, “or don't, but if you’re willing to do this, then you’ll know where to find me.”

“Bring your school work,” Clarke stated, thankful that the brunette was actually going to try. She watched her nod and then walk the way she was originally heading, the heavy soles of her boots thudding against the tiled floor. This was going to be interesting.

  
“So, I heard you and the Commander got called after class in Kane’s, today,” Raven cooed, flopping down on the bench of the picnic table at lunch.

Clarke groaned at her friend who was now looking at her with a single eyebrow raised. She whistled, breaking their gaze at Clarke's response, to remove the brown paper bag from her school pack. “Sounds rough,” the brunette chided, nudging her shoulder as she took out her sandwich from within. “You gonna spill or am I gonna have to pry it out of you?”

She sighed, looking across the school yard towards the girl leaning against a column, with a cigarette resting between her parted lips. Surrounded by others dressed in the same attire and relaying the same type of swagger. The brunette was focused on a certain area in the grass beneath her feet, obviously out of the conversation around her. She had to peel her gaze from the girl and back to Raven, still sitting with a questioning look in her eyes.

“I’m Lexa’s new tutor,” she grumbled, lips curling as the sentence spilled from her tongue. Not used to having those words strung together.

Raven stared at her with her mouth agape, and Clarke watched as a small smile began to stretch the sides of her cheeks until the girl was grinning deviously. “Are you serious? Arcadia's most renowned, 4.0 student is going to be tutoring the most reckless, irresponsible, held back delinquent known to man?”

“She’s not that bad,” she trailed off, looking down at her lunch.

“Says the girl who’s been her main target for four consecutive years?” Raven looked at her as if she was incredulous, “are you feeling alright? What’s in that leftover lasagna of yours?” She lifted her hand as if to check the blonde’s forehead in mock concern.

“Knock it off, Raven,” she laughed, swatting away the offending limb, “I’m just saying that we’ve never really gotten to interact with her. Who knows, she could be moderately respectful.”

The brunette rolled her eyes and turned back towards her sandwich, “actions speak louder than words, Griff.”

“We’ll see,” she muttered, looking back at the topic of conversation. The girl hadn’t moved an inch except for the fact that she was now holding the butt between her fingers and her vibrant green eyes were staring right back at Clarke’s. Their gaze held, she doesn't know how long for, but when the bell rang, and the student body rushed around them, the girl disappeared into the crowd.

Clarke had walked into the diner at half past five, wanting to get a scope of the place and collect her thoughts before the impeding brunette came crashing in and disrupted it all. The small joint reminded her a lot of where she worked, dingy red booths lined the walls, with a bar sitting on the far side of the door and an entrance to the back kitchen beside it, which you could look into thanks to the long window along the very same wall. So, basically every stereotypical diner she had ever seen or heard of. Waitresses whipped around at the dinner rush, their yellow and red pencil skirts twirling as they went from one table to the next, one of them leading Clarke to a booth near the back. It’s tabletop covered in scratches of graffiti, along with old wear and tear.

Her fingers traced along the small divots forming words, designs, and sentences that were thought to be important enough to permanently have an engraving there. While her eyes watched the world outside the diner, it was only the middle of October and already most of the trees outside had lost their green shade, turning brown, red, orange, and blending together to create a beautiful autumn atmosphere. The booth she sat at, outlooked the road alongside the diner, the pavement dark, wet from the earlier rain. The sky was almost dark, the sun lighting it with an expanse of pinks and yellows as it set behind the distant hills. As it was later in the year, it was darker sooner. It would be light almost till nine in the summer, but right now she could already see the moon in the sky, guarded by its several smaller, twinkling lights. She was always confused at the fact that it not only got dark earlier but also stayed that way until late the next morning, she thought it would be the opposite, having the sun rise early. But no, fuck physics, she didn't understand how that stuff worked and she was perfectly content staying in the shadows on the subject.

Just as the brunette had promised, she came strolling into the building two minutes before her watch ticked past six. Her eyes fixed a little too greedily on the exposed waitress before being pointed in her direction. She felt her breath catch when their eyes locked together. This was going to play out one of two ways, and she was praying that it wouldn't go the direction which ended in a pissed off brunette and her looking for more community service.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the brunette slid into the seat in front of her, casually placing her elbows along the backrest and smirking at the blonde. A glimmer of, something, shown through her eyes before it was gone. The girl looked mischievous, but yet she always did, and Clarke was scared out of her mind. She didn’t sign up for this, it was way out of her league and yet here she was. Staring it in the face, watching it analyze her, staring as it slouched and opened its plump lips to speak.

“So, _tutor_ , how we gonna do this?” The girl was still smirking, and Clarke wanted to slap it off of her.

“Well first, we’re gonna start with you _never_ calling me that again unless you want to kiss your future goodbye,” her voice was calm but she could only imagine what the snarl across her face looked like based on the impressed expression being thrown her way from the brunette.

“Feisty, I like it,” her smirk fell between a pleased grin and a crooked smile. “Although I can think of several other things,” the brunette’s eyes traced along the blonde’s body, making her squirm and shift her gaze, “that I’d rather be kissing, so I’ll hear by your words.”

“Good,” she said, though it came out as more of a squeak and she could already feel the reddened tips of her ears.

“Great,” and now she was smiling menacingly, knowing exactly was she was doing to the girl before her.

She cleared her throat, shifting in her seat as her hands twiddled anxiously. Her eyes roamed over the older girl in front of her, from the locks that flowed down her chest and to the edge of her white shirt, the table cutting off any more of her view. “Where’s your book bag?” She noticed the girl had come empty handed.

“Oh,” the brunette’s smug look slipped and her eyes widened… in fear. The stoic, “don't give two shits”, girl before her was scared, or maybe shocked, it was a cross between the two.

“Lexa,” she was aggravated now. There was no point to this if the girl didn't have the audacity to remember her school work. She should have known that this would happen, the girl quite obviously didn't want to do this so why should she even have to try?

“Well, this was fun, _really_ , but if you’re not-.”

“Hey,” she held up her palms in surrender, “I’m just messing with you, my stuff is in the back.” And then she got up to stride towards the bar, disappearing into the kitchen behind it.

 _Of course_.

It only took a minute or two before she was back, with a bag slung over her shoulder as she waltzed over to meet the blonde again. “You know the owner or something?” She questioned, eyeing the girl as she flopped into the booth.

“I do actually, old family friend.” She then proceeded to lift the bag over the table and spill its contents from within, beginning to rifle through it, almost as if she was _organizing_ it.

When the contents on the table were separated into three different piles, the girl looked up at the blonde, pleased with herself. “This is the work for my geometry class,” she waved her hand towards the pile on her far left. “The class we share,” she stated as her hand traveled over the pile from the other, “and this one is just a bunch of random shit that I found in there.” Her hand stopped after the last pile and fell into her lap.

Clarke nodded along, eying the mess of work that mostly contained scribbled writing and doodles. “I've never tutored before, so I’m not exactly sure what we’re supposed to do,” she began, “but I guess we can just start with your first class and go from there?”

“Okay,” the girl agreed, her green eyes moving from the blonde and to the pile she had deemed _geometry_. “I have this first period, have you taken it before? This is my second time,” the brunette lifted her hand to rub the back of her neck. If Clarke didn’t know any better, she’d say that the girl looked almost _embarrassed_.

“Yeah, I took it my freshman year,” she watched the girl’s green eyes slide down to where her hands had reclasped, a blush spreading from her nose and Clarke smiled. “Show me what you’re working on now? Then I’ll know what you need help with and try to answer any questions you have.”

The flustered brunette filed through the papers slowly, not really looking for any one thing in particular. “I’m not entirely sure what it is we’re exactly doing in the class.”

Clarke sighed, this was going to be a long evening, she needed a milkshake.

“So, you use this equation, to get the length of this line?” The girl asked, pointing into her notebook at said equation and then towards one of the three sides of a triangle.

“Yup, that’s called the hypotenuse.” She bit off half of the fry in her hand and chewed it slowly, savoring the salty flavor mixed with the crunchy and mushy texture.

“The hippopotamus?” She looked at the blonde as if she was crazy.

Clarke giggled, swallowing her bite before reaching over and taking the pencil from the girl’s soft fingers. She wrote out the word at the top of the girl’s paper, “hypotenuse.”

She looked up and was surprised by how close she had gotten to the brunette, who was looking at her intently before muttering, “hypotenuse,” softly, affirming the pronunciation.

“Exactly,” she moved back quickly, looking at everything but the brunette, “it’s the line between the horizontal and vertical. The ones connected by the right triangle, there,” she pointed at the small square.

“Like the floor and a wall?” Lexa questioned, leaning her head against her hand and finally looking back at her paper again.

“Basically.”

“So, this line,” her index finger traced the pencil mark, “is like the distance I would travel when jumping from the top of Punchbowl and into the water?”

“Well, kinda,” Lexa pouted and Clarke quickly went to continue, “in that situation, gravity would be applied, making it more of a physics question. Because of your weight and gravity’s effect on it, when you dive it would look more like this, “she did a swooping motion with her hand. “A better example for this problem would be something that isn’t really affected by gravity.”

She thought for a second before snapping her fingers, jolting the girl in front of her slightly, “it would be more like shooting a gun. Say you were standing at the top of Punchbowl with a sniper, and someone else stood on the bank below. When you shoot at them, the distance between them and the base of the cliff is the bottom side of the triangle, the height of the cliff is the other side of it, and the distance the bullet traveled would be the hypotenuse.” She smiled at the brunette before her, happy with her explanation.

Lexa returned the expression, “are you implying that I should murder someone, Griffin?”

“That depends,” Clarke matched the girl’s smug smile, keeping pace with the shift in direction of the conversation, “who would you kill?”

“I got a few people in mind,” she smirked, pleased by Clarke’s response.

“Do you now?”

Lexa hummed in confirmation, nodding and looking back at her paper. Both of their smiles still present as she got back to work on the problem at hand. Tonight had been nothing like how Clarke first imagined. After the initial awkwardness, they actually fell into a pattern quite easily. Lexa asking questions and Clarke answering where she could, helping her through difficult problems, which was accompanied by the occasional joke or side conversation here and there. Honestly, she was enjoying the brunettes company.

When she saw Lexa reaching for one of her fries she swatted her hand back, “food is for people who can do math.”

“ _Clarke_ ,” the girl whined and her heart skipped a beat. She doesn’t think she’d ever heard the girl say her actual name before, let alone it being strained by the girl’s adorable tone. She shuddered and felt her stomach tighten when the word slipped off the girl’s tongue.

 _Fuck_.

Lexa huffed, focusing back on the question at hand. She smiled at the brunettes behavior, she liked this Lexa way better than school Lexa and hoped she would see more of it. Hesitant smiles and meaningful glances, who would have known that the _Commander_ had a soft side.

**Author's Note:**

> Guess what happens when the place you work puts a ban on phones and literally all you do on your free time is write clexa fanfic on the device? You end up with a journal covered in writing and sticky notes that has now slowly become this fic. Also, if you're reading my other fanfic, do not worry, I am going to be updating both periodically, there's no way I'd ever let that other one go. 
> 
> Please give me a response on what you think! I love every single comment, good or bad :)


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